Snowblind
by Dragonsbain
Summary: CAM comes calling
1. Bagged and Tagged

Charles had them all over a barrel. He was quite enjoying this. Mary Morstan was just the start. It wasn't about just the blackmail anymore. Or the murder of the Morstan family. It was about pulling the Holmes boys strings. Sherlock was boring him, for the moment. Time to throw some petrol on to the fire.

"Greg I have no idea why you still have resources tied up with this." Sherlock stated.

"Sherlock, this Magnussen guy has Mary and your parents." Greg replied.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade my brother is correct. Magnussen was quite specific in his demands that Sherlock and I find them. Anything else could possibly lead to..."

Mycroft's phone beeped.

"Excuse me."

"As much as I am loathe to agree with Mycroft, he is correct." Sherlock said without lifting his eyes from the maps in front of him.

"Mycroft?" John asked softly.

No one else had noticed. Mycroft had retreated into a corner of Lestrade's office to read the text. He was now pale as a sheet with his lips moving silently. John watched as he leaned on the wall. John walked over and stood in front of him.

"Mycroft, focus on me. What's happened?" John asked.

"Sherlock!"

"John, please, no need to shout."

Sherlock and Lestrade looked up and saw John trying to move a very stiff and pale Mycroft. Greg and John saw Sherlock's face change. Sherlock's voice was soft and lacked all the pretense of hate normally reserved for Mycroft.

"Mycroft?"

Sherlock grabbed him by the wrists and led him to a chair.

"Look. Remember me? Annoying little brother?"

Sherlock was kneeling in front of him. Mycroft's eyes became unfocused. He was beyond talking. Sherlock's hand grabbed Mycroft's camera phone. Sherlock stood up and crossed to Greg's desk. He quickly wrote down a list while John descended on Mycroft.

"Greg, water, now. Please." John stated.

Lestrade poured a glass of water and joined John.

"What is going on?" Greg asked.

John shrugged as he gently started checking Mycroft over.

Sherlock went to the door and yelled for Anderson. Sherlock finally got through Mycroft's security codes. The phone had locked down after 60 seconds of no input. Sherlock walked back towards Mycroft.

"Sherlock, did you need something?"

"Anderson. Would you kindly get everything on that list." Sherlock handed Anderson a list with 20 quid.

"Time to see why your so upset." Sherlock whispered.

_Time to even the pressure. You have always known that you are smarter than your brother. Time to prove it. Why should Sherlock have most of the weight on him? I even gave you a hint. You'll be hearing from me soon. CAM_

The photo attached to the text showed Anthea unconscious on a concrete floor with three, two-foot openings halfway up the wall.

"Anderson!" Sherlock called.

Sherlock quickly forwarded the picture to himself. He could hear Anderson come back down the hall.

"Sorry, I need you to double everything on that list."

Sherlock grabbed the list and started writing. Sherlock produced another 60 quid and handed it all to Anderson.

"What is.." Anderson asked as Sherlock pushed him out of Greg's office.

"John? Is my brother with us, yet?"

"Somewhat."

Mycroft's eyes were becoming clearer.

"Can we please know what happened?" Greg asked.

Sherlock showed Greg the picture.

"Mycroft, your this upset because they got your secretary?"

The growl rumbled out of Mycroft before he could stop it. Lestrade backed up.

"I promised her she would never come to harm, Lestrade. I don't know how she was captured. She knows almost as many ways of killing people as Sherlock does." Mycroft said softly.

John gave a questioning glance to Sherlock. Sherlock leaned over and whispered;

"Figure it out. Impress me."

Sherlock turned his attention to Mycroft.

"I think that would explain it." Sherlock said indicating the picture.

"What?" John asked.

"She was darted between the shoulder blades." Sherlock answered.

Greg and John looked over the picture and there was a tranquilizer dart complete with a bright white feather.

"Mycroft breathe." Sherlock said.

Mycroft took a few deep breaths and just became more agitated. Mycroft got up and paced Greg's office.

John was quietly sitting and thinking. Sherlock knew John had figured it out when he went and stood before Mycroft.

"When were you going to tell us?"

Mycroft looked very annoyed.

"I think we need to know her real name."

"Tried to keep it quiet. Only been a year." Mycroft mumbled.

"What is going on!" Greg yelled.

Sherlock waved at John. "That woman is not only his assistant but his girlfriend."

"How did you figure this out?" Greg was sounding shocked.

"I've seen Mycroft in every situation including terrorists attacks, threat of war, collapse of British government. He has never reacted like that. His body was panicking. But mostly, the rings. They have matching rings. Impressed?"

Sherlock nodded and smiled. Mycroft shook his head and gave John a quick smirk.

"Her name is Charlene. I call her Charlie. She calls me Myeeks." Mycroft stated.

Greg stifled a laugh. 


	2. Male Bonding

Sherlock grabbed Greg and pulled him into the hallway.

"Lestrade, be very carefully around Mycroft. I don't know how to explain. I think this case going to be very exposing for both of us. I have you all. He has Charlene and John and I."

"Sherlock. I think I understand. He is alone and aloof. He is always the authority. He has functioned that way for so long. It looks like Magnussen wants to tear you two apart in ways that require friends and not colleagues to help."

"Yes."

"Sherlock just pull me back if I do something wrong."

"OK. Also I don't know why he is doing this to us."

"I didn't ask."

"You were about to."

Greg was about to say something when a loud thud came from his office. Greg started to open the door.

"This is not an updated sewer layout of the city. What simple, minded idiot compiled this!" Mycroft screamed.

Sherlock shoved Lestrade out of the way as two binders of maps flew by them and exploded against the hallway wall.

"Where the hell is Anderson?" Sherlock mumbled.

Greg and Sherlock gathered the maps and walked back in. John was totally calm. Nerves of steel. Mycroft looked murderous.

"Mycroft. I would appreciate it if you sat down. You need to relax."

"I don't particularly care what you think John. I will relax when I feel like it."

Greg couldn't say quite what happened next. All he could possibly write in a statement was that Dr. John Watson became a blur of activity around Mr. Mycroft Holmes. Mycroft became seated at the small meeting table in Greg's office. John placed a pillow on the table in front of Mycroft.

"Get off of me, John." Mycroft said rather weakly.

John pushed Mycroft forward and got his arms up.

"Pillow hug."

John pushed Mycroft's head down on the pillow.

"Head down. Now stay."

John started massaging his shoulders.

"Mycroft. Your heart rate is extremely elevated. Your muscles are so tense that you should be sick from lactic acid alone. You never sleep. Shall I keep going?"

Mycroft winced.

"I do not mean to hurt you. You are just so wound up. Mycroft. I'm here to help you. Please let me help you. I think you should be able to trust me by now."

John's strong hands were gradually loosening up Mycroft's shoulders and back. John could feel his breathing slow down.

"Of course I trust you John. Your the best thing that ever happened to Sherly."

Greg shot a look at Sherlock. Sherlock rolled his eyes in response. John continued beating the stress out of Mycroft for another 10 minutes. Mycroft looked like he was almost asleep a few times. A particularly painful spot would jolt him awake.

"How did John know to try this on your brother?"

"My guess would be that it works embarrassingly well on me. Same genetic base. It would have a high chance of working on Mycroft as well."

"Sherlock?" John whispered.

Sherlock focused on John.

"Can I do his neck or is he like you?" John mouthed.

"Neck. John. Please." Mycroft sleepily mumbled.

"Enjoying this?" John said through a laugh.

"Less talk. More..rUB!" Mycroft squeaked.

"Sorry Mycroft. This muscle won't loosen."

John dug the heel of his hand into the side of Mycroft's neck. After a minute Mycroft's head was snuggling into the pillow.

"All concrete."

"What Mycroft?" John asked.

"All concrete."

Sherlock picked up on this.

"All three rooms are concrete."

"Mycroft, I need to get this off of you. I'm afraid of messing up your suit. Unless, you want me to stop."

"Heavens, no. John let me get comfortable. Then if you are willing." Mycroft said with a smile.

"No problem." John said.

Mycroft grabbed the duffel sack he had brought in with him. Mycroft disappeared into Lestrade's private loo. Sherlock sat down and sighed.

"Thank you John. You have already performed minor magic. Mycroft is calmer. Without sugar. You have impressed me twice in 35 minutes."

"Oh joy. Oh rapture." John said with a bit of snark.

Sherlock looked wounded. (Not really.) John gave him a full sweeping bow. Greg sat down behind his desk and rubbed his temples. It was going to be a long week.

"Are your hands ok?"

"Yes, Sherlock. My anger and frustration are getting rid of your brother's knots. Also I feel better making someone else feel better. Considering I can't do anything for the misses at the moment."

"It is a win-win for both of you." Greg chimed in.

"Quite." John answered.

Mycroft emerged from the loo dressed in a monogrammed track suit and trainers. John beckoned Mycroft to a stretch of carpet. John laid down a puffy quilt and placed the pillow near one end. John realized too late that he just asked Mycroft Holmes to lay on the floor. Mycroft stretched and every abused joint popped and crackled. Mycroft sighed and kneeled next to the quilt. Mycroft rolled onto the quilt face down. Snuggling back into the pillow. Mycroft could feel John waiting for permission.

"John. I trust you. Please continue."

John swung himself over Mycroft. Settling down between Mycroft's gluteus and his own heels. John leaned down and whispered;

"I need to know if I'm hurting you or otherwise."

"The pain needs to go. I'm not affected by the otherwise. So if I don't stop you please keep going as long as you want."

"OK."

John patted Mycroft on the shoulder and started on his neck again.

"Yes, Sherlock. All the rooms are concrete. Mummy and Father, Mary and Charlie."

"Same room?" Greg chimed in.

"Possibility. Have to put all three photos up and(yawn)compare wall heights. Concrete color."

Mycroft sounded like he was sleep talking. Looked like it to.

"Inspector Lestrade. Please obtain correct maps for all the water and sewer lines that were built after? Sherlock could you please give me a correct aging of that concrete?"

Sherlock sat down and flipped through the three pictures on his phone.  
The machinery is not very old. Concrete looks scrubbed. I need to touch the surface to feel the acid wear.

Mycroft watched as Sherlock closed into his bubble. Not quite his mind palace. His eyes would be closed. It fascinated Mycroft to see how his brother used his mind. He couldn't be still. The more active Sherlock's mind became the more his body had to move.

"Brother Dear. Not down to the day."

"I am flattered that you think I could give you that information from a photograph. I need to touch the concrete for that. From the wear patterns. Maybe water?"

"Sherly, year."

"33 to 35 years old. Plus or minus six months."

"Inspector Lestrade. Please obtain all the water and sewer lines between 33 and 35 years old."

"On it."

Lestrade stood up to leave the room.

"Great. My wife is in a damp, cold, concrete room."

John's hands were burrowing into Mycroft's should blade.

"John I bruise like a peach." Mycroft mumbled from the pillow.

John froze where he was. John looked at his hands and laughed. Greg and Sherlock smiled.

"Sorry Mycroft."

"I'll be back in a few minutes."

Greg disappeared out of the door.

"John I want to sincerely Thank You for this. I need to get you on retainer."Mycroft sleepily stated.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and smiled. John chuckled. Sherlock started looking up what he needed to on his phone.

"John I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to bring them all home safe and sound. You know Sherlock will move the universe for those he loves." Mycroft whispered.

"I appreciate that but we are not in charge."

"Then we must figure out how to do that. I would like to avoid as much pain as possible. The worst sound in the world, to me, is Sherly crying. Followed quickly by you. Despite what everyone thinks I do care for both of you. Mary is a wonderful woman."

John stopped and looked at Mycroft's face. John could see he wasn't lying.

"Mycroft remember I'm here for you also. You always have my ear and shoulder."

Mycroft shivered under John.

"Caring is not an advantage, John. Because it hurts too much."


	3. Concrete and Chocolates

Author's Note:

Thanks to all the readers of this story. I feel the need to acknowledge the following. I have read all the theories about Season 3. Seen all the behind the scenes of all the Sherlock seasons. Read all the interviews. Read and reviewed all the books.

All the following ideas are mostly a mash-up of all the above. So no plagiarism is meant.  
Enjoy

* * *

"John I need to broach a very delicate subject." Sherlock said quietly?

"Sherlock. Am I going to hit you for asking?"

"At least a 60% chance."

"Ok. Ask away. My hands are busy. Your safe for now."

"What does Magnussen have to do with Mary?"

John felt Mycroft tense under him.

"Before I answer, I need to hear what your first impression was with Mary."

"Unfair question, John. You are going to get furious with me."

"Sherlock I know you love Mary. You would lay down your life for her. I need to know."

Sherlock closed his eyes and thought.

"Cat lover."

"Sherlock."

"Guardian. Liar. Disillusioned."

John could see the pain in Sherlock's eyes when he opened them. So could Mycroft.

_I told you not to get involved. Dear Brother. We just need to move forward._

"Ok. I am mad. But I will tell you what I know. You are correct. Instead of me rambling on with stuff you already know. Ask me what you don't."

"Can I help here?" Mycroft said.

John froze.

"Mycroft. Let me guess. You know Magnussen?"

"Yes, John. He is the ultimate blackmailer. The secrets he holds could bring down half of Europe."

John was working on a huge knot in the small of Mycroft's back.

"Are you about to tell me that you did the same thing to my wife that you did to Sherlock?"

John placed his right knee directly on the knot.

"No, John. Magnussen was Mary's guardian. We can't prove what Magnussen had to do with the death of her family. Sherlock you should look at the case. It would help a lot."

John's knee slowly ground into the knot. Sherlock was glad Mycroft couldn't see John's face. Mycroft would be terror stricken. Sherlock was trying, desperately, not to laugh.

"Did you know all this when I met her? Have a file on her? How thick?"

John stood up and lifted Mycroft to his knees.

"No file John. She was never more than a footnote in Magnussen's file till your relationship."

John twisted Mycroft's torso as far as it would go right and left. John was hoping for a crack. Nothing happened.

"That footnote, was mangled psychologically by Magnussen. Mary finally started telling me bits and pieces after the Honeymoon. Mary gets quite upset. You had all this information and didn't share ANY of it?"

John pushed Mycroft back down on the quilt.

"Sorry, Mycroft this is going to hurt. Brace yourself."

"John. I had secret information about your wife. I did not tell Sherlock or anyone close to either of you. I was hoping that it would never have to see the light of day."

John's thumbs were deeply kneading the knot. Mycroft's face slowly contorted in pain.

"Breathe Mycroft. You have to breathe through it. Did you know Mary was being targeted?"

Mycroft spat a No out through gritted teeth. Mycroft started hitting the floor while trying not to scream in pain. Sherlock started waving to get John's attention.

"John. You are going to kill my brother. He has tears coming out of his eyes." Sherlock mouthed to John.

"Mycroft, do you have the file with you?" John asked.

Mycroft shook his head yes.

"Mycroft you have to deep breathe. I can't get this knot out by myself."

"It hurts. The deeper I breathe the more it hurts." Mycroft growled.

"Mycroft, I know." John gently said.

John tried lifting Mycroft by his hips. Trying to gently twist him.

"Towel." John held out his hand and snapped his fingers.

"Here mate."

John was surprised when Greg handed it to him. John saw Sherlock rustling through two grocery sacks.

"Mycroft. Here."

John handed Mycroft the towel to take care of his face.

"Mycroft. You held the information not to cause any problems?"

"Yes. You and Sherly just got reunited. Sherlock, my duffel. File. Please John snap this knot."

"Deep breath. Now."

Mycroft took a shuttering breath as John twisted his hips. A sickening snap echoed around the office. John gently lowered Mycroft back down. John rested his right hand on the small of Mycroft's back. Mycroft was in possession of his left. Mycroft's breathing was ragged.

"Thank you, John."

"We aren't done yet. But, your welcome."

Sherlock sat down in front of Mycroft.

"What did you do to him, John? He is shaking like a leaf and is crying."

"Sherlock when a human body is as constricted as Mycroft's was the easiest way of getting rid of the toxins is through the tear ducts. So, technically, your brother isn't crying. He is detoxing."

Mycroft smiled.

"What he said. Sherlock, I actually haven't felt this good in a while."

"Mycroft, you need an intervention if that made you feel good. It is also scary to think what your normal is." Greg stated.

"Lestrade, our normals are the same. Just a question of scope."

"Makes sense."

"Open." Sherlock said as he pushed a chocolate into Mycroft's mouth.  
Mycroft closed his eyes and let the chocolate invade his senses.

"Sherlock?"

"Just one more Mycroft. The rest are for later."

John could feel a purr rumble through Mycroft. It was barely audible. John felt it vibrate up his arms.

"Mycroft, you know that most women don't react that deeply to a couple of pieces of chocolate."

"I have one true vice. Let me enjoy it. Also, it was Scharffen Berger. Which makes some of the best dark chocolate on Earth. So let me have a good...detox with my chocolates. It will help clear my head so I can help Sherlock."

John bit down on a laugh.

"Mycroft. I need you to even out your breathing."

"Aren't you done with him?" Greg asked.

"Hardly. Mycroft is trembling because his muscles are giving up their tension. I need to make sure he doesn't..cramp back up again. That is horribly simplified."

"I understand John. Sherlock? You've gotten awful quiet."

Sherlock looked up from Magnussen's file.

"Sorry Lestrade. What did you need?"

"What can I do to help?"

"Can we review everything?"

"Ok. Eight hours and twenty-seven minutes ago. Sherlock received a text saying that your parents were going on a forced holiday. This text came from Magnussen. Sherlock was sent a picture of your parents in a concrete room."

"Mummy doesn't like concrete. Too cold." Mycroft was sleep talking again.

* * *

"Siger is Charlene awake yet?"

"No Violet."

" Wait. I thought her name was Anthea."

"Anthea, is like a code name Mary. Her birth name is Charlene." Violet explained.

"You can ask Mycroft to explain." Siger shrugged.

Mary stood up.

"No you don't. You need to sit."

"The damage is done Siger. I don't know why Magnussen did this."

"Mary, we should talk about him. Try and figure things out. If it isn't to hard for you." Violet suggested.

"I'll tell you everything. I owe that man nothing now. Anyway."

Mary's face lit up in a smile.

"I want to see where your boys got their habits from."

Siger and Violet laughed.


	4. Intermission

Dear Readers,

The last episode of Sherlock just aired. It will be, at least 3 days , before I can see it over here. I only know a few key points.

1. Sherlock throws everything away to save John, Mary and the baby. (not a big shock)

2. Sherlock is shooting up again. Molly beats him up in her lab because of it.

3. Sherlock fears attachment because he lost his dog.(I really want to see this. Sherlock must have been a really tender child.)

I want to finish this little story before I see the episode. So I don't get to influenced by the episode.

Reviews are love. Enjoy the story.


	5. Mental Gymnastics

"What did Magnussen have on your father?" Siger gently asked.

"He was doing something illegal. I really don't know what he did."

"Mary, your family had to have something on Magnussen. Why murder a family and risk everything that goes with that. Your family had something that could destabilize his empire." Violet stated.

"I will try and think of anything that could help."

"You needn't rush Mary. We might be here for some time." Siger said.

A soft groan passed from Charlene's lips. Siger went to check on her.

"Good Morning Charlene. How are you feeling?"

"Mr. Holmes? What?"

"Charlene you were kidnapped. Did you see who did it?" Violet asked.

"No. I was headed back to the car. With maps so Mycroft, Sherlock, John and Lestrade can look for you all. I felt like someone hit me in the back. Then I hear Siger's voice."

'Charlene , can I check you over?" Mary asked.

"Hi Mary. Sure. I just have a bit of a headache."

Charlene watched Mary walk stiffly over to her. Mary and Charlene smiled.

"Where are they looking for us?"

"I was bringing back sewer maps. Do you know where we are?" Charlene asked.

"We are in a 40 by 50 room. Smells of mold. Somewhere at or under the water. The walls are humming so there is machinery close." Siger stated.

"Oh, Charlene. Your not going to like this."

Mary was looking at her back and wincing.

"What is the matter?"

"You are allergic to whatever Magnussen knocked you out with. You are starting to get little hives between your shoulders. I want you to tell me if you start itching or have problems breathing."

"No problem, Mary."

"So what do we do now?" Violet asked.

"Well, Ladies. Seeing as I have never had this opportunity before in my life. I might as well take it. First, Mary do you know who Charlene is?" Siger asked.

"Of course I do. You are... wait."

Mary looked at Siger and then at Charlene.

_What am I seeing but not observing?_

Violet laughed. "Sherlock in your head?"

"Yes. He does have a tendency to rub off on people." Mary stated.

"Charlene? You and Mycroft?"

"Yes. Almost a year now."

Siger and Violet were whispering to each other.

"Siger what were you going to say?"

"First. From now on Dad and Mum." Siger smiled.

"Really?" Mary and Charlene asked.

"Yes, please." Violet added.

"Charlene, if Mycroft has any sense in his head, that will be official." Siger stated.

"In hopefully not to long." Violet added.

"Then Mary. We know you didn't wed Sherlock but." Siger said.

"They come as a set." Charlene said through a laugh.

"You don't know the half of it."

Mary and Charlene shared a laugh. Siger clapped his hands together and laughed.

"It is every parents inalienable right to gently torment their children. So, what would ladies like to know?" Violet said with a smile.

* * *

"Sherlock, should we send people to eliminate a few sewer lines."

"Greg, there are to many lines right now. We have to narrow it down. I need more pictures. Information. Something."

Sherlock looked very angry, frustrated. Lestrade wasn't sure. Just the fact that Sherlock was showing an intense emotion was scary enough.

"Listen Sherlock. You need a break. Can I get you some tea?"

Sherlock actually gave him a gorgeous smile. The one that made it to his eyes. The one reserved only for his friends.

"Yes. Thank you Greg. Milk with two sugars."

"TA-Da." John said gently.

Greg and Sherlock looked up to see John smiling. They followed John's sweeping arm to where Mycroft lay. Mycroft was deeply sleeping. Greg had never seen him look so relaxed. John retrieved the second quilt in the room and draped it over Mycroft. Sherlock had a stunned look on his face.

"John I am in awe of your skill set.

"Sherlock you are most welcome."

John sat down and stared at the maps.

"John? Tea?" Greg asked.

"Yes. Milk only. Sherlock anything here?"

"I have only been able to eliminate twenty percent of the sewer lines. I need more information."

"How long has it been since the last communication from Magnussen?"

"Eighty-seven minutes. He has been sending information every two hours."

"Here you go." Greg stated as he handed out the tea.

They sat quietly and tried to cut down the number of lines. Sherlock mentally manipulated the three pictures they were given. Turning them over. Like puzzle pieces. He fit the picture of his parents next to the picture of Charlene.

*Knock*

The picture of Mary was sliding into place when a sharp knock shattered the picture.

*Knock*

"Damm it." Sherlock quietly hissed.

He opened his eyes to see John shushing Anderson. Anderson had a large envelope and a confused look on his face.

"Anderson, please be quiet. What is this?"John asked.

"This was just found taped to the front door. Why is Mycroft asleep on the floor?"

"Because I put him to sleep. Please don't wake him. Thank you for bringing this."

Anderson looked between Mycroft and Sherlock. A true study in opposites. Peaceful slumber to a caged storm.

"Sorry. Call me if you need anything."

Anderson slipped out of the door. Greg took the envelope and shook the contents on to the table. Two pictures. A test tube filled with gray dust. An empty test tube with a line drawn around it. Sherlock took the filled tube and handed it to Greg.

"Molly."

Greg nodded and walked out of the room.

"Why did he send us a picture of eggs, toast and orange juice?" John asked.

"I don't know but this is much more helpful."

They both stared at a picture of a narrow passage. Ribbed concrete with a door on one side. Seven lines of pipes running the length of the wall on the other.

"Is there a door in any of the other pictures?" John asked.

"No. The concrete looks the same though."

"Pumping station?"

"Not the station directly. The pipes would be bigger. Not that far from one though. Narrow down the maps."

Sherlock pushed half the pile of maps across the table. John gathered them and placed them on Greg's desk. Sherlock spread out the maps and darted his eyes over them.

"Sherlock. It looks like this picture has been overlaid."

Sherlock took the picture and saw what John was talking about. Six geometric figures that were very faint.

"Good eye John."

"Are they similar?"

Sherlock grabbed a blank sheet of paper from the copy machine and laid it under the picture.

"Dead pen."

"What?"

John watched as Sherlock dove into Greg's trash bin. Fishing for something.

"Got it!"

Sherlock brandished the pen and dashed back to the table. It was then that he realized that he had just shouted. John's eyes fired daggers at him. Sherlock stood still as he watched Mycroft stir slightly.

"Sorry." Sherlock whispered.

John watched Mycroft as he rolled towards the couch. Rolling over was fine. Waking up was not. Mycroft settled into a fetal position. John then soothed him back into a deep sleep. John walked back to the table.

"Why did you almost wake him up?"

"For this."

Sherlock traced the faint images on the picture. The lack of ink left the picture with no marks. Just indentations. The paper underneath picked up the imprints. Sherlock then filled the imprints with ink.

"Ok. They are almost but not quite the same. Are we supposed to trace one of these on the map?" John asked.

Sherlock mentally started pulling the images.

"John you might as well relax. This could take a while."

"OK. Tell me if you find something.""Of course."

Sherlock watched John lay his head down on the table cradled with his arms. When John's breathing slowed, Sherlock pulled into a bubble. Just the maps. The six images and lots of mental gymnastics.

_Where are you all? _


	6. Sibling Rivals

Greg walked back into his office quietly. Mycroft was curled into a ball in front of his couch. John was resting his head on the table. Sherlock was doing... something. John looked up at Greg and smiled.

"John is this what you were trying to describe to me?"

Greg kept his voice low. He didn't want to wake Mycroft or disturb Sherlock.

"Yes."

"Is this his mind palace at work?"

"Yup."

Sherlock let out a low growl and pushed another map down the table.

"That is 8 maps he has gone through."

"What is he doing John?"

"We found that the second picture has an overlay. Six symbols that are almost but not quite similar. So Sherlock is trying to fit them over the maps. See if he can make any sense of them."

"How long has he been at it?"

"Twenty five minutes."

"He is picking things up that aren't there."

"Yes they are. Mental projection. Watch his hands."

Sherlock put down the fifth symbol and picked up the sixth. Starting at the upper left of the map Sherlock twisted the symbol around trying to match it up to the water and sewer lines.

_Why are none of you matching? Why are you so similar?_

Greg and John watched as another map sailed down the table. Greg watched as Sherlock's eyes flickered open. He scanned the next map. Then his eyes snapped shut. They watched as Sherlock's eyes danced under the lids. His hands were pinning things to an invisible board.

"Oh. I get it now. He just picked up the map and pinned it to a board. He is picking up the symbols and trying to fit them on the map."

"Yes. He has ten minutes."

"Are we under a deadline?"

"Oh no, no. If I let him go longer than forty minutes strange things start happening."

"John, you know it looks like he is having a seizure. What strange things?"

"Almost like waking a sleep walker. Gets defensive. Starts swinging."

"John can I ask something personal? I won't be put off if you don't answer me."

"You want to know what is wrong with him?"

"Yes."

John laughed.

"I really drew him out and mucked him up. You are very smart. I'll tell you a few things and you can draw your own conclusions."

"John, Sherlock didn't SAY that did he?"

"No he didn't. It is the truth though."

"John I agree with Mycroft. You are the best thing that has happened to him."

Sherlock huffed and sent another map down the table. Sherlock bounced a bit in the chair. He was looking frustrated and upset.

"First, even though he is incredibly intelligent, Mycroft is even more so. Sherlock was always the stupid, little brother. Second, Sherlock worked very hard to put himself as close to Mycroft's intelligence level."

"What are we talking about here. IQ scores?"

"At the beginning, yes. The last time they were both tested Mycroft was 10 points higher. 191 vs.181. But if you add artistic ability. Sherlock wins. Hands down. So Mycroft will always be more logical. To Mycroft artistic ability is a mystery. Mycroft can appreciate music. He can feel it. But either can't create it or if he can doesn't let it be shown. I don't know."

"So is Sherlock just lying about the "high functioning sociopath" thing?"

"No. Sherlock has a lot of sociopathic traits. He is a touch autistic. Also a touch psychotic. I personally think that Sherlock's brain punishes him for squashing his artistic side. His "god complex" comes from trying to control all of this. So, he needs brain stimulation. By thinking, solving cases or drugs."

"John, stop. You mean he didn't start this way. This was all learned behavior? Is Mycroft the true sociopath?"

"Most of this was learned behavior. No. Mycroft puts his feelings away because they interfere with his logic. Obviously, he still has them. Of course, I could be wrong about all of it."

"Wow. Ok. That explains a lot. I will not say a word."

"Time to wake you up." John stated as he walked behind Sherlock.

Sherlock drew in a deep breath and had a smile on his face. John came back around to look Sherlock in the face.

"I do believe he is on to something." Greg stated with a smile.

Sherlock's hands were a blur of activity. He was plugging pieces into the map.

Sherlock stared at the sixth piece.

_Where do you go? I suppose I don't need you now. _

Sherlock stuck the sixth piece into his coat pocket.

_I'll keep you for later._

Sherlock slowly opened his eyes and looked at Greg and John staring at him.

"Why are you two looking at me?"

"Sherlock. You have been at this for fifty minutes." Greg said.

"Greg stopped me pulling you out. He is convinced that you were on to something."

"Thank you, Lestrade. Five of the six symbols match up with the water and sewer lines of Blackheath."

"So we should get going there?"

"No Lestrade. I want to see if Magnussen contacts us again.""Sherlock, what about the other test tube?"

"I don't know John. Maybe Magnussen will let us know something in another 30 minutes."

* * *

Mary was tired from laughing so much.

"They were holy terrors." Charlene said.

Mary stiffled a yawn.

"Sorry. Didn't sleep much last night."

"Come here Mary." Siger said.

Siger folded his coat into a pillow.

"Lay down for a while. We will check on you. Now if anything hurts. Or cramps."

"Yes, S...I mean Dad."

Siger smiled at the correction.

"Sleep well."

Siger rejoined Violet and Charlene.

"Charlene we need to fill you in about what happened before you got here."

"Please, do."

* * *

Sherlock stood up and stretched. He finally got a good look around the office.

"Lestrade when did it start raining?"

"About two hours ago. They named the storm."

"What are they calling it?" John asked.

"St. Jude because it is going to hit on Monday morning."

"It is only 10 pm Saturday night. Why is it already raining?" Sherlock asked.

"The first rain bands. I think. The rain isn't that heavy, yet." Greg said.

"I wish Magnussen would hurry up. I don't want any of them getting wet."  
John sounded frustrated.

"John getting yourself worked up is not going to help. May I suggest joining my brother?"

John looked like he was about to argue but thought the better of it. John nodded to Sherlock. John carefully stepped over Mycroft and settled onto the couch.

"What is the matter Sherlock?"

"I don't like not knowing what this second test tube is for."

* * *

AN:My reference for this chapter is Benedict himself. Watch the interview and see what you think.

Check out this video on YouTube:

Benedict Cumberbatch interview/ ABC news.

Since the link doesn't work.


	7. Visual Clues 1

Dear Gentle Reader,

I want you to see what Sherlock is having to deal with. I am working off of maps and pictures. I will be posting them on my Tumbler Account. Feel free to view them. Sorry everyone. The link isn't working. I'm Dragonsbain on Tumblr. Take a look.


	8. Overload

Being the father of boys had subjected Siger to a decade or so of very little loo privacy. The rifle in the small of his back was a bit much, though.

"Can I just have a minute?"

The guard rolled his eyes and exited the room. Siger knew there was nothing he could do other than follow orders. He had three ladies to look after.

* * *

_"Mycroft. I need you to look after your Mum and Sherlock."_

_"I think I could be much more helpful preparing for the storm."_

_Siger sighed as he looked at his ten year old son. _

_"Mycroft let me explain something to you. I know you think that the important jobs are out preparing for the weather."_

_"I do not understand Father. The preparation will save our town and many lives. So how can they not be important?"_

_Siger thought: I married a genius. Mycroft was certified as a genius. Sherlock was very sharp and clever . What else could you say about a three year old? Most likely Sherlock was one also. Siger had learned to talk to Mycroft like an adult._

_"Mycroft I need you to turn your intellect down for a minute. I need to talk to this."_

_Siger placed his hand on Mycroft's heart._

_"But Father.."_

_"Let me speak."_

_"Yes, Sir."_

_"When someone asks a person to look after their loved ones it is an honor and privilege. Mycroft what good is defending one's town if there is no one to come home to?"_

_Mycroft was turning the idea over in his head. Siger could see fear and sadness flash across his son's face. Siger had learned not to emotionally jump when his son was in pain. Mycroft may be a genius but he was emotionally stunted. Mycroft had to figure it out for himself. _

_"I don't want to take them away from you, Father. I will do my best to keep them safe."_

_"It is for you also."_

_Siger knew that Mycroft understood because his son was soon hugging him. _

_"That's my boy. I will keep you informed as the storm rolls in."_

_"I will relay any important information to you, Father." _

_True to Mycroft's word, he helped his mother and Sherlock for 24 hours before Siger could return. Siger could remember how proud Mycroft looked. Violet listed all the things that befell the Holmes household and how well Mycroft handled himself._

* * *

The roles were reversed now. Siger now had to hold the hearts of his two boys. No, his three boys.

Magnussen was revolting. Siger had only been with him for about 15 minutes. Siger's skin was crawling after 5. Siger didn't want to think what was eventually going to happen. He just hoped that Mycroft and Sherlock could work together without trying to kill each other. Siger was going to have a talk with Sherlock and Mycroft. It hurt him that they couldn't get along.

Siger was blindfolded and led back to the room. The ladies were all eating. Violet excused herself from the table and joined her husband halfway across the room.

"Violet? What is wrong?"

Siger could tell he would regret the answer.

* * *

Sherlock had an incredibly hard time with patience. He wanted to rescue everyone and be done with this.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes, Lestrade."

"Did you want me to check with Molly? See if the scans are done?"

Sherlock knew it would be another 45 minutes before the scans came back. He could just send Greg away. It would give him some alone time.

"Molly will contact us when she has the results."

Sherlock turned and looked out the window. It was still raining. Not heavy, but steady. Sherlock was quietly turning over thoughts in his mind.

* * *

Magnussen looked up from his desk. He looked over Sherlock Holmes' school records. There had to be something in them he could use.

"Mr. Magnussen shall I send out the next package?"

Magnussen looked at his aide.

"Give me one minute."

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

Sherlock turned back to Greg.

"Greg can you get me in touch with Robert Varley?"

"Of course I can."

"I need someone who is a weather expert. I will admit I don't know enough."

"It is ok Sherlock. We don't expect you to know everything."

Sherlock knew Greg was trying to soothe and not insult.

"Thank you but it is still annoying."

Greg smiled and picked up the phone.

* * *

A tall masked figure walked into Magnussen's office. Carrying maps and a laptop.

"Have we cracked our socoipath genius yet?"

"No. He is still mostly working alone. I think I have something that will change that."

They shared a smile.

* * *

Anderson gently knocked on Lestrade's office door. Greg helped carry in the huge box.

"What is that?" Sherlock asked.

Sherlock looked at the top of the box.

"Have fun Mr. Holmes."

Greg zipped the packing tape apart with a box knife. It took a few moments just to get everything out.

"How does all this tie together?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock looked at the contents that covered the table. Another two empty test tubes. Both with demarcation lines. A small brass cup. Another few pictures. Stacks of newsprint. Property reports. Greg watched as Sherlock's eyes darted all over the table. Lestrade pulled a micro cassette recorder from the box.

"Sherlock?"

"Play it."

Bing Crosby's "Swinging on a Star" burst from the small speaker.

"Ok. Now I'm confused. Sherlock any ideas?" Greg stated.

"Four so far. Maybe more."

_What is this brass cup for?_

His brain blanked to white. Sherlock's eyes stilled and body froze.

* * *

"Mr. Magnussen I have the report you wanted."

"Thank you."

"Did it work Magnussen?"

Magnussen looked over the observers report.

"Perfectly. Froze for 2 minutes."

Magnussen smiled as he opened the folder before him. Magnussen placed his hand on the school report.

Nurses Report

William Sherlock Scott Holmes. Age 9. Referred by calculus professor.

Possible absence seizure.

Mr. Holmes was completing his in class assignment when Professor Kilgore turned on a Bach concerto to help his students relax. Professor Kilgore noticed that Sherlock froze in position for between one and two minutes. Kilgore gently shook Sherlock for a minute to wake him up.

At Sherlock's request the above reaction will be referred to as Snow blindness. Since the last thing he saw was his world becoming white washed.

* * *

Sherlock felt himself being rattled by Lestrade.

"What happened? You weren't there for a moment."

"I'm fine. Thanks for waking me, Lestrade. We need to break into teams."

* * *

"Where are they located?"

"Mycroft and Lestrade are still in his office. Sherlock and John are headed to St. Bart's hospital. Going to meet Molly Hooper."

Magnussen looked over the meeting table. Maps and charts covered most of it.

"Isn't this a bit much for just one bomb?"

"Magnussen this isn't just a bomb. We will be enhancing a storm's fury. I have a reputation to uphold."

"You most certainly do Fantomas. You certainly do."


	9. A note from your author

Hello Dear Reader,  
I hope you are enjoying this story, thus far. I am doing a lot of research for this. All the clues are real objects, compounds, maps,etc. A few of the people that I have brought in and will bring in are also real. They currently serve in the positions I show them in. If I need to explain anyone or anything in detail please PM me.

Also if anyone figures out what is going on PM me. I want to keep this kind of interactive. Also I want to dedicate this story to three people. First, my brilliant friend and former coauthor Danika. Thanks for everything. Second, Steven King. The first writer I fell in love with. Third, Mr. Mark Gatiss. Thank you for being so multi-faceted and brilliant. Also, knowing that a few encouraging words go a long way.

Enjoy. Remember reviews are love.

Be well,  
Kathy


	10. Alliances

Greg Lestrade looked at Mr. Mycroft Holmes with great interest. Mycroft had separated all the paperwork into three piles then just sat down. Mycroft was all stillness.

"Mr. Holmes, Robert Varley has agreed to a meeting. Where do I send him?"

"Mycroft."

"Pardon?"

"Please, call me Mycroft. No need for formalities."

"As long as you call me Greg. Agreed? "

"Agreed."

"Mycroft, where do you need Robert Varley?"

"I need him here. Sherlock can come back."

"Ok. Let me message him."

Greg typed a quick text and hit send. Mycroft went back to quietly taking in the information before him.

"Mycroft, what can I do to help? I mean shouldn't you be doing twenty different things right now."

"Fifty. Greg."

Lestrade was used to Sherlock. Mycroft was a totally different animal.

"I don't like being useless, Mycroft. We have three different kidnappings. A huge storm and" Greg passed his hand over the table "whatever this is. Staring us in the face. Let me help. The Holmes brothers are not superheroes."

Mycroft smiled briefly.

"Please don't tell Sherlock that. You will never hear the end of it."

Greg chuckled. "True."

"Greg fill me in on anything that happened while I was asleep."

Greg's text alert sounded.

"Mycroft, it is Varley. He said that he can spare some time in about 2 hours."

"Thank him. He is a very busy man tonight."

"I will."

Mycroft looked over the table trying to put it all together. He had property value reports for scattered locations from London to the North Sea. They all had the values set at zero.

"Mycroft, is their anything that connects the locations together?"

"They are all public properties. So not the same owners."

"Shall we map them?"

"No need. All the properties fall in a cone that starts in London. Then the cone goes wider till it goes out to the North Sea."

"So no help there. Ok."

Mycroft mentally sorted through court cases.

"Court cases. Some of them link but not all."

Mycroft liked to talk out loud when solving problems. Normally, no one was present to answer.

"Can the Thames be the link?"

Mycroft looked at Greg.

"Let me think. It might be."

_Flood plains? Yes. But again not all. _

"Mycroft?"

"Yes, Greg."

"Something happened to Sherlock that I have never seen before. Not even when he was shooting up."

Mycroft could hear the undertone of concern.

"What happened?"

Lestrade described Sherlock's frozen state before he woke Mycroft and John. Mycroft sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Greg, this is serious."

"What happened?"

"No. The fact that Magnussen knew about it. Sherlock's childhood medical records I sealed myself. I don't like the fact that Magnussen would even do something like this. He is a business man. He is smarter than to do something like this."

"He isn't working alone. Magnussen has someone influencing him."

"Greg he is a master blackmailer. No I don't think anyone is influencing him. The thought is intriguing. That means he has a partner."

"All the science references, how much does Magnussen know about such things?"

"Basic knowledge. Nothing more."

"Mycroft where are Magnussen's holdings in relation to these other properties?"

"Magnussen has interests in most of the major companies in England. Greg let me make a few calls."

* * *

"Fantomas I am going to loose a lot of property if the bomb goes off."

"Do you want my help or not? Magnussen terror does not come cheap. Your gains will be so much more. There are methods to the ways I operate."

"Honor among thieves?"

"Honor has nothing to do with it. We are mutually using each other. It is for our greater good."

Magnussen nodded.

"Please tell me more little secrets Magnussen it amuses me."

Magnussen liked being able to amuse Fantomas. He certainly didn't want to make him an enemy.

* * *

Molly was running tests and Sherlock was glued to a microscope. John could only watch and wait.

John knew that Magnussen had something on Mary. Mary was only about ten when the rest of her family was killed. Then Magnussen became her guardian. The file that Mycroft had filled in some of the gaps. But not enough.

Mary was very strong. She was not easily rattled. Magnussen was a soft spot for her. John and Mary sat down and had a discussion about him a month after the honeymoon. Mary slowly unraveled in front of John's eyes. Not unlike Sherlock did the night he saw the hound. John stopped Mary talking when he saw tears of fear spring into her eyes. Mary tried to pass it off as hormones and wanted to keep going. John was having none of it. An hour later John whispered promises of safety for her and revenge on Magnussen to his sleeping wife.

Sherlock stood in front of John. He could see his best friend deep in thought. Sherlock did his best not to startle him.

"John. We have some results."

Sherlock's baritone cut through John's musings. John looked up and smiled at the storm colored eyes.

_For such a hard ass Sherlock has meltingly beautiful eyes. Even Mary agrees you can get lost in them. _

"What have you found?"

Molly started with the concrete.

"It is a late seventies or early eighties mixture of concrete. Sherlock narrowing it down to Blackheath can be correct. There was a lot of construction in that area during that time. So if Magnussen has them all hidden I would start there."

"Thanks Molly. Sherlock what have you got?"

"Copper Azide and Lead Azide which is somehow linked to the brass cup. I'm still working on that. We couldn't get much from the test tubes with demarcation lines. They were almost thoroughly cleaned."

"Almost?"

"Molly found broken chains of some chemical."

"I am testing them. See what I can find."

"Sherlock, can I interest you in a lovely stroll through the waterworks of Blackheath?"

Sherlock smiled.

"Only for you John."

Molly rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh.

"No one is going anywhere, yet."

They all turned towards the voice. Mycroft had just quietly snuck into the lab. Both him and his umbrella were wet.

"What is the matter? Why didn't you just text?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft sighed.

"The Game, as you call it, just became very complex and deadly."

"Mycroft, just spit it out." John demanded.

"Magnussen is working with a partner. Brother dear, what do you know about Fantomas?"

Fear ripped through Molly and John as they watched Sherlock go pale and sit down.

"Time to make a new game plan." Mycroft announced.


	11. Shadows

John watched as his best friend blanked out in front of him. Mycroft wasn't looking too stable either.

"Someone start talking. Now."

John's demand cut through whatever was gripping the brothers.

"John, imagine the worst human being and infinitely multiply it." Mycroft quietly stated.

Molly's voice floated from the other end of the room.

"So, Moriarty then."

"Moriarty would be sane and rational in comparison Molly." Mycroft answered.

"That is a bit of an overstatement. Isn't it?" John quipped.

Sherlock's eyes just bored through John. John flinched under the look.

"Moriarty would be sickened by most of what this... thing has done. John."

_Sherlock couldn't even call him human? That is frightening. _

"Fantomas dosed random perfume bottles in Paris, with sulfuric acid. 20 deaths. 80 disfigurements." Mycroft stated.

"Remember, the cruise ship Carnival Triumph? There was a fire in the engines and the entire ship turned into a floating disaster?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes."

"The thing caused it. The people were infected with the plague, John. The Plague!"

"Wait. That isn't what was reported."

"John do you really think that the C.I.A. and Obama would tell the world that they had a plague infected ship?" Sherlock calmly stated.

"The panic, John. This Fantomas, does not need any encouragement." Mycroft added.

"It has as network of apaches that cover Paris completely."

"Oh like your homeless network."

"No, they are street thugs!"

John looked surprised at Sherlock's outburst.

"Sorry John. I know you meant no insult."

John was trying not to smile. Sherlock just defended his network. He didn't treat them with much outward respect. Until someone insulted them. John nodded at Sherlock that his apology was accepted.

"Is he based in Paris, Sherlock?"

"Yes, Molly but he can influence worldwide."

"Ok. Why would he be teamed up with Magnussen?" John asked.

"I truly fear that answer." Mycroft softly said.

"Maybe Magnussen is growing tired of just blackmailing his way into power?Mycroft, now is the time to confess. What does he have on you? You looked..nervous when you came in."

Mycroft studied his younger brother. Sherlock could see more of him than most.

_Other than you?_

"On me, Magnussen, has nothing."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at that.

"Nothing more than office scuttlebutt."

Sherlock turned away from Mycroft and mouthed to John and Molly;  
"Basically, who is in his little black book."

Mycroft didn't have to see Sherlock's lips to know what he just said. Mycroft smiled and announced;

"At least I had one."

Molly and John winced. They both looked at Sherlock waiting for a comeback. Sherlock just sighed.

"Touché Mycroft."

"Don't need it now." Mycroft softly added.

John and Molly saw a smile trying to pull at Sherlock's lips. John and Molly exchanged a look before uttering a duel:

"Awwww."

Sherlock gave into the smile. Mycroft rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"Oh, Please. Would you like to now know what was bothering me?"

"Yes. Please continue."

"Fantomas or Magnussen has broken into your childhood records. The one's that were personally sealed by me. Not Mummy's. Not Father's. Yours, brother dear."

Sherlock, always trying to be in charge of the situation stated:  
"Why should that worry you or I? How do you know it was Magnussen?"

Mycroft closed his eyes and sighed.

"Magnussen has already proven that they have and can use the information."

"Wait nothing happened when I was with Sherlock."

"No. It happened when Sherlock demanded,rightly so, that you take a nap."

Molly was now protectively hovering behind Sherlock.

"What did he do to you?"

"Molly and John, Sherlock won't remember. That is what is so scary for me."

Sherlock had a strange mix of rage and fear on his face.

"Before you fly off the handle, Sherlock. Just think. When did it start snowing?"

Mycroft watched as Sherlock stilled for a moment. Sherlock hefted the microscope he was studying as if to throw it. Molly, quickly, grabbed him from behind and held the arm with the scope.

"If you break any more of my equipment I promise you will not set foot in this lab for months."

Sherlock tried moving his arm. He could not. Molly was not the weak kitten everyone thought she was. Molly got a growl in response.

"You can't make me."

Mycroft and John were suitably impressed with the murderous smile Molly produced.

"My lab. Mine. You have always been my guest. You are a dear friend. I believe I have more than proven that to all. Sherlock it doesn't mean you can do what you like in here. Do you understand?"

Sherlock was impressed and shocked. It was a struggle not to let his mouth gape. Mycroft was beaming a true smile to Molly. Sherlock gently placed the scope back on the lab table. Even petting it for emphasis. Sherlock tried to rise from the stool but Molly kept a firm grasp around his torso. Molly whispered in his ear.

"You are safe. Please don't run."

"Getting furious won't help Sherlock." Mycroft stated.

"You don't trust us?" Molly quietly asked.

"Of course I trust you all with my life. I find this embarrassing."

"Why? What does snow have to do with it?"

"I can't totally control my brain, John."

"Since when did you become a robot?"

"You have called me a machine."

"Sod it! Sherlock! I'm sorry. It was said in anger. I thought you said you heard me."

"I did, John. This...scares me."

Molly loosened her grip. Sherlock felt the warmth from her radiating into his back. Sherlock gently leaned into Molly with a sigh. Sherlock closed his eyes to retreat into his Mind Palace.

_When did I blank out? What was the last thing I remember? _

Mycroft could see Sherlock wasn't going to tell them anything.

"John. Molly. Sherlock can be induced into seizures."

"He isn't an Epileptic. I know that. So what type of seizures are you referring to?"

"John I believe the correct term is an Absence seizure."

"Explain John. Please."

Molly quietly asked. She was afraid to bother Sherlock too much. John turned and looked at Molly. Sherlock had relaxed into Molly's embrace. His head was leaned back into Molly's right shoulder. His face wore a serious expression. Sherlock's eyes danced beneath closed lids.

"Molly the major symptom involves a brief, sudden lapse of consciousness. Mycroft when was his first seizure?"

"Age nine."

"How many more has he had?"

"Five in total before this."

"How old was he when the last one happened? Before tonight."

"Fifteen."

Molly could see John was onto something.

"John?"

"Sherlock shouldn't have been triggered as an adult."

"Why?"

"Molly he should have outgrown it. Almost all children do."

"I'm a liability now."

Sherlock had not changed position. It sounded to all like he was sleep talking.

"When have you not been?" Mycroft said.

Sherlock was reconstructing the events right before his world went white. Mycroft filtered into the scene. Sherlock picked up the empty box and threw it at him. Mycroft disappeared.

Molly didn't move as Sherlock's right hand grasped at something that wasn't there and heaved it at Mycroft. Surprisingly, Mycroft ducked. John and Molly laughed.

"I do believe he heard you." John stated.

"Obviously."

Sherlock finally realized what had triggered him. He had four distinct lines of thought going when everything went white.

First, Mycroft needs to look at the property reports. He can call more resources to bear. He also needs to return to his post. There is a storm coming.

Second:What chemical were in those test tubes? Molly needs to swab those. How or do they tie into the concrete?

Third: What does Bing Crosby have to do with any if this? Is it a time mark?

Fourth: How long do we have before he starts harming the hostages? Why are they toying with us? What is the motive?

Then it started snowing in Lestrade's office. Sherlock was about to leave when he felt a vibration. The source could only be Molly. Had she coughed? Sherlock's mind was silent. The white out was almost complete.

Sherlock focused on the sound. Molly's laugh radiated through Sherlock. The snowflakes themselves were vibrating with her laugh. Sherlock was intrigued with the effect a simple laugh was having on him. Memories of John's laugh had gotten him through the tough nights of his "death".

_I'm more than hearing Molly's laughter. I'm feeling it._

Sherlock noticed the snow start to disappear. The scene became clear. He immediately forgave John for all the times he resisted human contact when in his mind place.

"My transport is contaminating my intellect. Please only touch me if it is an emergency."

John stuck to that rule. Sherlock could see he was wrong in enforcing it. Molly's laugh let him see what had happened. Finally.

Sherlock opened his eyes and slightly turned his head to look at Molly. Her eyes were glistening from the laughter. She truly looked stunning. Sherlock's movements had gone unnoticed by everyone so far.

John's statement of: "I really drew him out and mucked him up." was rather harshly couched but true. Sherlock was gradually learning to control his emotions. He found it better to give into them in a controlled way rather than hiding from them. John's reactions or lack of them helped Sherlock a lot.

Sherlock closed his eyes again to a memory that Molly would likely categorize as a "warm and fuzzy" one. It had been two weeks since Moriarty tried to explode John. They were working on the murder of a CFO from a manufacturing company. The murderer was so sloppy that the evidence was all muddled. No one was a clear suspect. Everyone was frustrated. John had left Sherlock thinking on the couch for grocery shopping. Sherlock had gotten up five minutes after John left to put on some music.

"If I can't think maybe I can relax." Sherlock told The Skull.

Vivaldi's Orlando furioso floated into the room from the stereo. Sherlock reclined on the couch and let the music wrap around him. Sherlock was minimally aware that John had returned in the middle of Act Two. Sherlock drifted back into the music.

John had quietly put the groceries away and stood before Sherlock. All the tension was gone from his face. He was alternately conducting and playing violin to the music. John sat down and quietly listened. He had heard opera before. It was a complex piece. John would later research the piece. He was curious as to what started the tears rolling down his friend's face. A small snuffle alerted John of their presence. They continued till the music petered out. John always knew what to do.

"Sherlock that was beautiful. You need to tell me about it."

Sherlock opened his eyes and realized that his face and collar were a bit beyond damp. Only then did he realize he had been crying. John's smile calmed Sherlock's fears that he would think this outburst a weakness. John handed him a box of tissues and went to make tea.

Sherlock suddenly realized why John had "detoxed" Mycroft. Sherlock had solved the CFO's murder within 24 hours of his outburst. John explained that Sherlock had been holding on to a lot of stress. It eventually paralyzed his logic. Sherlock had, unknowingly, relaxed enough to let go of the stress. The trick was to monitor his stress level. That is after he could admit to feeling stress.

John had made a quick decision that Mycroft needed it more than Sherlock. Sherlock was shocked with the state John had put Mycroft in. Mycroft was smiling and happy about it. John obviously had some sort of deep insight on Holmes' psychology. Sherlock had to admit that Mycroft's attitude was much more like when they were both young. Thus the two of them could work easily together.

_And John calls me a manipulative bastard._

Sherlock opened his eyes with a smile.

"Thank you Molly."

Sherlock slightly turned his face and placed a kiss on Molly's cheek. A few years ago, that would have sent her into a tailspin. They had both grown since then. Molly smiled at him as her cheeks darkened.

"Your thanking me for being a pillow?"

Sherlock could read the smile on her face. Half serious. Half teasing.

"No and Yes. Yes you are quite comfortable to lean against. You cleared the snow away Molly."

John noticed Mycroft gasping silently.

"No one has explained the snow yet. But, you are welcome."

Sherlock raised his head and stretched.

"The snow refers to everything going white when the seizure hits. I call it going snow blind."

"Sherly. Did you figure out how the seizure initiates?

"Yes I did."

"Can you control it?"

"I will attempt to next time Mycroft."

Mycroft sighed and leaned forward.

"That is all I ask."

Mycroft's phone rang. He answered and put it on speaker.

"Greetings Greg. Have you found it yet?"

"We have found one. Still looking for the others. Mycroft I need all of you back here."

"Oh Lord! Is Varley there?"

"Not yet but he is on his way over. Sherlock and John I need you two for bug hunting. Before we can do much else."

"What do you want me to finish Sherlock?"

"Molly, I'm sorry but I need Sherlock here."

"Greg. You all are only a phone call away."

Mycroft disconnected and started for the door. Sherlock and John followed him out the door and down the hall. Mycroft stopped.

"I will return in a moment."

Mycroft turned and went back to the lab.

"Forgot his umbrella." John noted.

Mycroft quietly opened the door and noticed Molly running another test.

"Mycroft?"

"Forgot my umbrella. Also I want to thank you."

"Why?"

"Those stupid seizures have scared me since he had his first one. I don't need to know how you did it. I am just grateful you did."

Molly wasn't the greatest at reading body language but took a chance anyway. She opened her arms toward Mycroft and nodded. Soon she was getting a warm bear hug from one of the most powerful men in England.

"My pleasure. Anytime Mycroft."

Sherlock and John looked in from the cracked door and smiled. 


	12. Us & Them

"Sherlock! You have five minutes!" Greg yelled through the door.

Sherlock and John stood back to back slowly scanning Lestrade's office. Sherlock was being extra careful. Most of the information they would deduce from now was the important stuff. None of it was going to be compromised.

"Mycroft is there a problem?"

"No Robert. We have a kidnapping case going on. Some of the information has been compromised so we are sweeping for listening devices."

"Better safe than sorry. This gives me a chance to catch my breath."

Varley and Mycroft sipped their tea and listened to the rustling coming from Lestrade's office.

"Just tell me this storm won't be as bad as 1987." Mycroft quietly asked.

"The indicators are saying no. We will have many problems though." Varley answered.

Sherlock stuck his head out of Greg's office and quietly asked for a megaphone and Greg's radio. Anderson produced the megaphone and Greg handed his radio over.

"Thank you."

Sherlock gave them all a quick smile and closed the door. John had gathered the six bugs in a group on the conference table. John was holding a laugh. He didn't want to tip Magnussen off.

"I would suggest everyone brace for a very ear splitting noise." Mycroft said.

"Why would we want to do that?" Sally asked.

Mycroft covered his ears and folded his head close to his chest. Thankfully everyone followed. The screech that assaulted their eardrums was annoying through the filter of flesh and bone. It was deafening to the two people listening through headphones. The giggling that came from Lestrade's office was music in comparison. Sherlock and John looked very composed as they walked out of the office.

"Greg, I would suggest doing a sweep of this entire building. Who knows what else has been compromised." Sherlock stated.

"All this fuss from one bug?"

"Donovan I would not make all that fuss for one bug."

Sherlock walked up to Sally and opened his palm.

"Now six of them. Yes."

Sherlock let the bugs fall into her hands.

"I would suggest, at least, a primary sweep of this floor. As I have just rendered the listeners deaf. You should have thirty minutes to complete the scan before the hidden bugs come back on line."

Sally was fuming.

"Greg, John and I will need access to the office directly across from yours. There should be a heat sensing camera pointed into your office."

Sally calmed herself enough to ask: "Why would they need a heat sensing camera? They already have the bugs."

Greg addressed her as gently as possible.

"They were watching our movements."

Sally had the good sense to lower her head and stay quiet.

"Anderson take them over there. Call if you have any trouble."

"Yes, Sir."

Everyone started for their various locations. Mycroft cleared his throat and all motion stopped.

"Yes, Mycroft."

Sherlock turned to face his brother. Mycroft held up his palm and disappeared inside Greg's office. Greg took this moment to walk up to Sherlock and John.

"How does he DO THAT?"

John shrugged his shoulders and Sherlock just rolled his eyes. Mycroft emerged from the office with two small boxes and tweezers. Then, changing his mind, walked back in.

"I think we should do this with a bit more privacy. Sherlock, John, Robert and Greg please join me."

Greg turned to Anderson.

"You start over. I'll send Sherlock and John when we are done."

Anderson nodded and left.

"Robert, please put up with me for a bit longer. Then we can get to business."

"Mycroft. Like I've stated, I'm relaxing. It will be days before I can again."

Robert stretched a bit in the chair. Mycroft smiled and nodded.

"John. Sherlock. I had these made specifically for each of you. Just in case. I've just never saw any reason till now to use them."

Mycroft pulled one of the chairs out and beckoned John to sit. John sat and Mycroft popped open the box.

"Left ear up, please."

John gave Mycroft a cautious look.

"You won't even feel a thing."

John laid his head down and closed his eyes. He guessed it was a communication device like the one Mycroft always had on. It made sense.

"Greg please make sure Sherlock doesn't leave this office."

"Why, would he leave?"

"John please hold perfectly still."

John drew a deep breath and stilled. Mycroft picked the device up with the tweezers and slowly lowered it into John's ear. All John felt was the cool of the tweezers.

"There all done. Can you feel it at all John?"

"No."

"Good it is seated correctly. Let me activate it."

Mycroft played with his phone for a moment. Mycroft's voice gently appeared in his head.

"Can you hear me?"

"How are you doing that? Your not moving your lips."

Mycroft smiled and placed John's left hand on his jaw.

"Watch the door John. He isn't paying attention."

John heard Mycroft's voice and felt movement deep in his throat. Sherlock had quietly slid up to the door. He was looking to escape. Mycroft waited till Sherlock's hand was about to touch the knob.

"Any closer and I will Bite You!"

Sherlock jumped back and just stared at the knob. So did the rest of the room. Sherlock looked to his brother and his best friend. Mycroft showed nothing. John was biting his lip to suppress laughter.

Sherlock tried the knob again while watching Mycroft. The knob let loose a demonic growl.

"Where did you learn to throw your voice?" Sherlock calmly asked.

"A Russian magician. Not long before we met up. It seems that magicians do let out their secrets. When you get them drunk enough."

John noticed that Mycroft's voice never got any louder in his ear. Some sort of volume control. Robert and Greg were shaking their heads in amazement.

"Mycroft Holmes, did you have anything to do with the talking plant at the last party David Cameron hosted?" Robert asked.

Mycroft smirked. Robert let loose a gentle laugh.

"Out with it." John said.

"That man was driving people batty by making a large fern by the patio doors comment on various things and people. Cameron even had the wine tested for drugs, afterwards."

"Mycroft. I'm so proud of you." John said through a laugh. "I didn't know you had that in you."

Mycroft wasn't insulted. It was a genuine compliment. Mycroft gave a bow. Robert was now openly laughing.

"I won't say a word, Mycroft. Ok. Sherlock you called this meeting what did you want to know?"

Sherlock sat down across from Robert.

"What is the timing of this storm? What is the flooding potential?"

"Excuse me, Sherlock. I'm not done yet."

"Yes. You are." Sherlock stated very slowly.

"Sherlock I need to keep in contact with you. Please. Also it will keep you in contact with John. Right ear up please."

Sherlock decided not to make a scene. Mycroft was being gentle.

"Look at the device. It is tiny. I swear you won't feel it."

Sherlock took the box and studied it. It was tear drop shaped with a tiny antenna coming from the top. Greg and Robert looked over his shoulder.

"Vibration sensor and transmitter for my ear drum."

"Yes. It is waterproof. The range is about three km. The charge can last a month. Right ear up."

Sherlock stilled and held his breath. Mycroft gently tweezed the device. John held Sherlock's hands before he could bat Mycroft's away. Mycroft got it in, but just. Sherlock started rubbing his ear afterwards. Robert gave a questioning look.

"He has really sensitive ears." John stated.

* * *

Fantomas floated silently underwater guiding the forty kilo package into place. This would be his masterpiece. He would not let anyone place it but him. Plus the dive was very relaxing. This had been a year plus in the planning. He really hadn't cared that Sherlock wasn't dead. He was just a plaything. Fantomas wanted to see Mycroft squirm and sweat. Magnussen could play his little games. Magnussen had proven his usefulness over the past year. Fantomas had found Magnussen was too bound by morals and such.

Fantomas was slowly tearing Mycroft Holmes apart. Magnussen was almost convinced that kidnapping Mycroft's parents would have brought the elder Holmes to his knees. He was a willing student. Just not a quick learner. Kidnapping Mycroft's right arm, Anthea, had finally slowed him down some. Fantomas wanted him destroyed. With Mycroft not looking over his shoulder, he could get volumes more accomplished.

Fantomas looked at his watch. 3:30 GMT. No one knew exactly when the winds of St. Jude's would top out. Anything over 60mph carried the explosion five plus miles further. Fantomas set the timer for 25 hours and slowly swam the half mile to the boat.

* * *

Mrs. Hudson hadn't slept well all night. The storm was coming and nerves were on edge. Between her life associated with a drug cartel and living with Sherlock she knew when to leave. Baker street was no longer safe. Mrs. Hudson texted a code to Sherlock's phone and left out a back window.

* * *

Sherlock and John had located two cameras. Anderson found the transmitting device. John and Sherlock listened to Mycroft and Robert discussing soil saturation.

"The trees are still in leaf. That will make them an easier target for the wind. With the ground so wet trees will be falling all over." Robert stated.

"Power lines down. Trees blocking roadways and railways." Mycroft added.

"Injuries, possible deaths, from falling trees. Also blowing debris." John finished.

"We are going to have to close all the barriers." Mycroft said.

"Barking, Thames and King George most likely." Robert stated.

"When is the PM holding the meeting?" Mycroft asked.

"8GMT. In 4 1/2 hours."

Sherlock could feel the text alert come alive in his pocket. He didn't want to stop dismantling the transmitter.

"John, phone."

John reached through his arms and retrieved it.

"Sherlock, Magnussen strikes again."

Sherlock carefully removed his fingers and looked up at the screen.

Fly. Robin. Fly.

Sherlock jerked the phone from John's hand. His fingers flew across the keypad.

Which nest are you headed for? Are you ok? *chime*

"Robert I apologize. Greg I need a car."

*ding* Nest 5.

"Sherlock. What happened?" Mycroft asked.

Are you ok *chime*

"Someone is after Mrs. Hudson. She is headed to a safe place but I'm not sure she will make it."

Mycroft could hear the tremble in his brother's breathing as he relayed to Greg.

"Tell her to look for Greg's car. Where is she?"

*ding* Stop panicking. You clod. The only thing I am is wet. So what am I looking for?

Lestrade's car And I'm not panicking *chime*

*ding* Yes you are. Unless you've forgotten how to punctuate.

Mrs. Hudson hit send and disappeared down another alley. 


	13. Fog Lifter

Author's Note

Things get serious from here folks. Our warriors have been prepped. Let's get this battle started folks. Special thanks to Dan and Ben for their amazing podcast Hardcore History. Give it a listen. You won't regret it.

* * *

"There was a small fire in the front hall, Sir."

_Oh God. They tried to torch the flats. _

Greg was driving slowly down Great Peter St.. The nest was in Victoria Tower Gardens.

"We extinguished the fire before it got to far."

"Is Sgt. Donovan and her team there yet?"

"No, Sir. They should be there in five minutes."

"Thank you. Keep me informed."

"Lestrade!"

"Christ, Sherlock. Not so loud."

"Did I just hear that our home nearly burned down?"

"They What!" John screamed.

Greg looked at the phone on the dash. He had left it on speaker.

"Yes. They caught it you two. Where is she?"

"Let me check." John answered.

Where exactly are you? *chime*

Mrs. Hudson looked around at the quiet houses. It had stopped raining. She was still soaked.

*ding* Lord N St.

"Lord N St."

"Good. Tell her I am turning down it now."

You should see him on the street now. *chime*

Sherlock and John expected a return text. When none appeared they started to worry. Sherlock's fingers were deep in the transmitter.

"Have you found it yet?"

"John I'm a bit distracted at the moment. A few moments and I will have the homing device."

"Good. Then we will see if we can trace it." Mycroft added.

They all were seated around Greg's conference table again. Robert had left 30 minutes ago. The Met Office was buzzing and they needed his guidance.

"Greg." Sherlock said gently.

There was no answer. So he tried again.

"Greg?"

The three men stared at the phone for an answer.

"Lestrade!" Sherlock bellowed.

"Young Man. You lower your voice this instant. It is 4:15 am. Are you trying to wake the entire neighborhood?"

Sherlock breathed out a sigh of relief. John and Mycroft were softly laughing.

"Are you ok?" John asked.

"Yes, I am well. Nothing a bath towel can't fix."

Mrs. Hudson scrubbed her hair with the towel that Greg had given her. She then started blotting her arms and dress.

"We will be back in twenty."

Greg stated as he turned off the phone.

"Inspector, How bad is the situation? Please just give it to me straight." "Well, Mrs. H, it isn't good."

* * *

Mycroft had disappeared after Sherlock had pulled the homing tracker out. John watched as a black coupe pulled up and Mycroft handed over a small box with the tracker and some of the property reports.

"OK boys. How can I help?"

Before John could turn around Sherlock had engulfed Mrs. Hudson in a hug.

"Before you both ask. Donovan will call me if they find anything relevant at the flat. Where is Mycroft?"

"He is passing some of the "clues" to his people. He should be heading back up. Mrs. Hudson would you like some tea?"

"That would be lovely John."

"Varley said he will contact us as the storm worsens." Sherlock added.

"Now dears, how can I help?"

"We keep getting little pieces of information that I keep trying to tie together." Sherlock said.

Greg, John and Sherlock were presenting Mrs. Hudson with what they knew so far. Used to Sherlock and John's high speed prattling, Mrs. Hudson absorbed what she could. Which was quite a bit.

Mycroft walked into four people hunched over the conference table.

"Mrs. Hudson. I am grateful you were not injured."

"Mycroft Holmes. Whatever I can do to assist."

Sherlock studied Mycroft's face for any signs of resistance. Finding none, he gave his brother a smile.

"If you can give us any further insight on any if this, we would be most grateful."

Mrs. Hudson smiled and nodded.

"Mycroft. I experienced a buzzing sound twice from our link. Is that normal?"

Sherlock smiled at Mycroft. John had also heard it. Sherlock and John figured out that whatever was discussed at the coupe was not meant for their ears. The links were turned off then back on again. They just needed to hear Mycroft say it.

Mycroft sighed. They weren't asking what had happened. He knew they had both figured out why. It was a trust issue. They all needed to trust each other intimately.

"It was concerning the meeting the Prime Minister is scheduling for 8am. My place is here. I am trying not to go."

"Thank you." John said.

* * *

"You couldn't capture an old, frail woman?!"

Fantomas pistol whipped one of Magnussen's associates into unconsciousness.

"Really, Fantomas. Mrs. Hudson saw the intimate runnings of a drug cartel. You didn't count on her having an innate sense of danger? She was gone by the time they went to collect her. He is one of my best men."

Magnussen had the man removed from the room to be looked after.

"How was your dive?"

"Peaceful."

"How are our captives?"

"Mary is quite uncomfortable. Anthea sings in her sleep. Mr. And Mrs. Holmes are just trying to keep everyone calm. Shall I send a quick note?"

"Yes, please do."

Magnussen sat down at his laptop and typed out a quick note. He paused and looked to Fantomas for approval. A crooked smile passed over Fantomas' face. Magnussen hit send.

"Magnussen? Did you get a hold of Barker?"

"Fantomas it seems he was called away for his services. All I could find out is he was sighted boarding a private jet 36 hours ago. With all of his equipment. Do you have any idea?"

"No but I'm intrigued. He only gets called out for the monumental explosives."

"None the less, he isn't here to undo your handiwork. Also we lost the camera's and the bugs."

"It was just a matter of time. We are dealing with the Holmes boys."

Fantomas sat and started typing on his laptop.

* * *

"Sherlock all I can prove is whatever was in these vials was a mycotoxin. Sorry."

"Molly, that at least gives us a direction. Thank you."

"Your welcome."

Sherlock ended the call with Molly and shrugged his shoulders at John.

"Can a mycotoxin be linked with the brass cup?" John asked.

"Let me think."

Sherlock closed his eyes and retreated into his mind palace. He came out to a noise.

"What is that?"

"It was a fax sent to me from Magnussen."

"May I see it, Greg?"

"Sure."

Sherlock looked at Mycroft and John. Both looked irritated. Instead of asking the obvious, he read the note.

_Dear Mycroft Holmes,_

_This letter is to inform you on the care of our captives. Mary seems to not outgrown the morning sickness phase yet. Worry not your parents are great caretakers. Now to Anthea. Oh and I realize that she is nothing more than a glorified gopher to you. Seems as though she has it bad for someone. It seems she sings in her sleep. You can pass on to her love that she Bungled through almost 7 minutes of Miracles. We will stay in touch._  
_F&M_

Sherlock set down the letter.

"Magnussen doesn't realize that you two are in a relationship, Mycroft. That is a relief."

"It is Sherlock. I'm thankful."

"What about Mary?"

"If she gets stressed, her stomach turns knots."

"Well, we know he hasn't done anything to them yet." Mrs. Hudson added.

Sherlock had images flashing before his eyes. His brain was trying to put something together.

"Brother?"

"Sorry. I need to think."

Sherlock closed his eyes. The letter, the vials, the pictures and the symbols were floating in front of him.

* * *

"Magnussen. Always have backups."

A heat image came to life on the laptop. It was Lestrade's office but the view was looking down.

"I had a camera placed four floors above the first one."

"What is going on?"

"I do believe Sherlock figured out what is wrong with Mary. He does have such a weak stomach."

* * *

David Cameron stared at his phone. He was getting ready for the meeting to plan for St. Jude.

"Mycroft. How goes your problem?"

"David. I am politely asking to miss the meeting. I need to be with my family."

"What has occurred?"

"Fantomas and Magnussen have made the leap from kidnappers to murderers for this case."

"My word who?"

"We just lost the baby."


	14. First Blood

Greg slipped the shooter's headphones over John's ears as he unloaded the first clip. Greg was not going to try to stop him. Just wanted to protect his hearing. Lestrade really appreciated that the indoor shooting range cleared out for both of them. He would explain later. Most of the officers really didn't need one, though. Greg looked at his watch.

_It has only been 10 minutes. Damm._

Sherlock had announced one word. Zearalenone. Then almost heaved his guts up on the conference table. John shuffled him into the loo in time. Mycroft took a minute to process the word and then looked horrified. John was fingering his service revolver and disappeared out the door. Greg had chosen to follow John. Greg shuffled John into the elevator and headed for the range. John had stayed silent.

John slid into the range and grabbed the nearest target. One clip later, the target came back up missing the middle three rings. Greg was just filling his clips and setting up targets. After four clips Greg grabbed John's hands as he went to reload.

"John, Mary and the baby have been poisoned?"

John nodded.

"Are they..."

John held up his hand and pointed at his ear.

"Mycroft...thank-you. Thank Cameron also."

"John what do you want to do?" Mycroft asked.

"Let me blow off some more steam and I'll be back up."

John turned his attention to Greg.

"Greg, Mary will eventually be fine. The baby.."

John stopped as he heard Sherlock start mumbling.

"I killed my baby sister before I got to meet her."

He repeated it four times then started dry heaving.

"Sherlock. Stop. You did not kill your baby sister. You had nothing to do with it."

Greg closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't need to ask anything else.

"I couldn't even keep one vow. Just one." Sherlock whispered.

"Sherlock, listen we are not gods. We don't have some special power to keep the ones we love safe. All the brains and planning in this world cannot prevent everything. Things happen." Mycroft softly said.

John was repeating for Greg's benefit. Greg thanked him for the information. Greg held his arms open to John. Accepting them,Greg listened to and felt the ragged breathing coming from John.

"John I promise whatever it takes they will pay."

*sniff* "I know you will Greg. I know you will."

"Wait did Sherlock say sister?"

John pulled away and smiled.

"He told Mary and I that he wanted a chance to be a big brother. Try and do half as good of a job as Mycroft had."

John could hear Mycroft draw a deep breath. He was about to open the loo door to hand Sherlock a toothbrush and toothpaste.

"Mycroft, you know he really does mean that." John whispered.

"John. I am desperately trying to keep myself together. Take it easy for a minute." Mycroft whispered.

John nodded.

"I should have warned you. After effects of the stress relief."

"Fear not. I usually channel well. I shall find my center again. Your babe will be avenged."

John heard something quite primal in Mycroft's tone. As if all the grooming was hiding something else.

"Let me have at him, Mycroft. He is mine."

"If I can deliver him unto you. The killing blow is yours."

"Deal."

Sherlock was pulling himself together while listening to everything. John could hear Sherlock start scrubbing his mouth through the link. John needed a laugh and knew Sherlock wouldn't mind. At least in this case.

"Anyway this gives Mary and I a chance to go to some beach and have all sorts of fun making another little one."

John could hear coughing as Sherlock was trying not to choke on his toothpaste. That was overlaid with Mycroft's laughter.

"John please." Sherlock stated. "I do not need any details of your love life."

Mycroft listened to the stuttering sob/laugh coming from John. Mycroft made a silent vow that John and Mary would be able to go anywhere on Earth to create life, again. Mycroft turned his eyes to Sherlock emerging from the loo. He looked totally spent.

"Mrs. Hudson is that tea ready?"

"Yes, Mycroft."

Mrs. Hudson sniffed it.

"What is in here?"

"A mixture of herbs, tea and spices to settle his stomach."

Sherlock took a sip and grimaced.

"I have enough for a few more cups. If need be."

Sherlock gave his brother a grateful look and raised his cup to him. Mrs. Hudson quietly watched the two brothers.

_Family_. She thought. _The ones that can love you the most and hurt you the deepest._

Mycroft and Sherlock were watching her.

_Mind readers._ Mrs. Hudson thought.

They both gave her an exasperated eye roll. Mrs. Hudson just laughed and finished fixing tea for her and Mycroft.

John was leaning against the wall pulling himself together. Greg let John just relax while he swept up the spent shells and removed the targets.

"John?"

John looked up at Greg.

"Are you ready to go back?"

John nodded his head yes.

"Good let's go find everyone. Then we can kill those two bastards."

John smirked.

* * *

Two hours later.

"You will know it has been one spell of wet and windy weather after another in recent days. As a succession of areas of low pressure have affected the UK. But they may turn out to just be the warm up acts to the main event coming our way Monday."

Greg let the news fade into the background. He had three teams out traversing sewer lines. Four to a team. Each team had a list of markers to look for. They had to remain in contact. Checking in every twenty minutes. They were in Lewisham, Blackheath and Greenwich. They had found nothing so far. The rest of the force was prepping for the storm.

John and Mycroft were at the conference table. Pouring over maps. The analysis of the concrete was the basis of the search. Mrs. Hudson was in another office taking a nap.

Sherlock burst into the office. His beaming face told them he had accomplished his task. They all gathered around the gutted copy/fax machine. The returned homing device was wired into it. The homing device could not be traced. The program controlling it had hacked into 10 different server towers. So the origin point was lost.

Sherlock wanted the chance to see if he could turn the homing device into a messaging device. Mycroft could follow his line of thought. It was a long shot. Sherlock occasionally could be a magician. So Mycroft got the parts as quick as he could. Mycroft know all magic could be explained with enough intellect. Sometimes it was just better to let it be called magic. It lifted the moral of those who witnessed it.

"All ready to send the message?" Mycroft said.

"Yes."

"Do we all agree on the wording and the implied message?"

Mycroft got nods of approval from all.

"Ok. Send it Sherlock."

Sherlock typed:

Zhongdu fell and so will you.

Sherlock smiled and hit send.

"We have just declared war. So you all know." Mycroft announced.

They all nodded.

"Mycroft could I please look at all the files you have on Magnussen? Let me see if I can add any weapons to our arsenal."

"Of course." 


	15. Stir things up

AN:I read all the reviews. So I offer this chapter as an explaination. The story will be getting a higher rating from here. At least PG-13. So grab your comforts and read on.

* * *

Mycroft noticed that Greg was valiantly trying to look up the substance used against Mary.

"May I?"

"Sure."

Greg gave up the seat behind his desk to Mycroft. After a minute of typing and websites loading Mycroft relinquished the chair back to Greg. Mycroft had pulled up a medical site.

_Zearalenone (ZEA) is a mycotoxin produced mainly by fungi belonging to the genus Fusarium in foods and feeds. It is frequently implicated in reproductive disorders of farm animals and occasionally in hyperoestrogenic syndromes in humans. There is evidence that ZEA and it's metabolites possess oestrogenic activity in pigs, cattle and sheep._

Greg looked at Mycroft with a questioning look on his face. Mycroft stood directly behind Greg and reached over his shoulders to type.

_Basically, the baby will detach from Mary's uterus and slowly abort. The baby's system should have been overwhelmed by the first dose._

Greg could feel Mycroft's breath skimming over the top of his head. Greg removed Mycroft's hands from the keyboard.

_My niece was dead._ Greg typed.

_will be dead by the time the placenta starts to separate_. Mycroft finished.

_Will Mary bleed out?_ Greg typed.

_She will have to stay relatively still. It will be the same as a miscarriage. Mary will have to receive a D&C after we find her. She is a very able nurse. Mummy will be able to help her also._ Mycroft typed.

Greg looked up at Mycroft. His face was the picture of control. His eyes were blazing, though.

_Nobody expects you to carry us all through this. She was your niece also._

_Greg...I choose to turn my thoughts into actions against Fatonmas and Magnussen._

Sherlock looked up from the files and studied Greg and Mycroft. They were doing something much more than just looking at paperwork. Sherlock lowered his head and whispered into the files.

"Mycroft. You are explaining. How quaint. Your typing to each other."

Greg was a bit worked up to notice that Mycroft was whispering to himself.

"Sherlock. A little discretion is called for here. You are all...Everyone is a bit fragile right now. Grief and mourning should never be put on a schedule. Unfortunately we have more pressing matters. Did you mean what you told John?"

Greg patted his hand to draw Mycroft's attention to the screen.

_Mycroft, you are not Lord and Protector over all of us. That is not realistic. If I didn't have so much to do I would have taken John to the pub. _

"Yes, Mycroft. Every sentiment. Every word."

"I had enough practice with you. Can you even handle a nappy?"

_Greg, I think he is going to need much more than a night sobbing in his draft. Although that is a good place to start. Hell, we might all need that when we are done._

"I will learn. You did."

John forced a smile down. Sherlock attempting a nappy. That had to be filmed. He tried to stay thinking about the files. He wasn't sure if they all thought he was just distracted. John would keep acting like he didn't hear anything. Even though that was clearly impossible.

Greg looked up at Mycroft and saw his eyes slightly glaze over as he looked at Sherlock. Mycroft looked to John, also buried in files, and sighed.

_Care to share?_

Mycroft considered Greg for a moment then typed:

_Just remembering the day Sherlock was born. Mummy let me hold him. Actually, I wouldn't give him back till he fell asleep in my arms. Well we both fell asleep. John and Mary need to know that feeling. _

Mycroft stopped and sighed. Sherlock was deep in thought over the files. Mycroft knew he was done talking. For now. Mycroft was fighting his eyes misting over. What the hell had John done to him? Greg started typing again.

_Awwww. Nice memory. _

_Stop it, Greg. This is strangely hard and your not helping. I have a reputation to uphold._

_You Holmes boys have to realize that expressing a bit of controlled emotions will not bring the world to an end. _

_Like you do._

_Where do you think I was for half an hour earlier? _

Mycroft thought about it. After John and Greg had come up from the shooting range, Greg had disappeared. When he came back in the office Greg looked tired and his eyes had a pink tinge to them.

_Mycroft I care for both of them. You know that. Sherlock can be quite likable when he is not being the world's only consulting smartass. _

Mycroft bit down on a laugh.

_I have to use that one, Greg._

_Your welcome._

"I hate to interrupt you two. I think I found something." Sherlock announced to the room.

John looked up.

"What happened to these three gentlemen?" Sherlock announced.

"Who?" John asked.

"David Martinez, Patrick Metz and Samuel Robson. They were all mid-level editors of three fairly successful local papers. All were highly praised for the jobs they did. Then they just fall off the map."

"What papers?" Mycroft asked.

"The Northampton Chronicle & Echo, The Yorkshire Post and Dewsbury Reporter respectively."

John grabbed a fold-out map of England and mounted it on the office wall next to the conference table.

"I need to see things like this." John offered as an explanation.

"Good idea." Greg said.

"What are our map points?" John asked.

"Blackheath and Tonbridge." Mycroft offered.

"Chelmsford and Dewsbury." Sherlock added.

"Leeds and Northampton." Greg said.

"Mycroft. What about all those property reports?"

"You ready John?"

John held up the box of push pins and nodded.

"Sittingbourne, Billericay, Merchant Street, Longfield and Romford."

"What do we have?" Greg asked.

"A mess?" John answered.

They were all interrupted by a gentle knock on the door.

"Yes?" Greg asked.

Mrs. Hudson opened the door.

"Mrs. H. come in." Greg said. "What do you have there?"

"This just came through the fax machine."

John snagged the paper first. He silently read it. John visibly blanched and tossed the paper up in the air. Mycroft caught it.

John went to Greg's desk and heel kicked the lower left side of his desk. The lowest draw obediently popped open. John retrieved the bottle of scotch and got a tumbler from the bar.

"You could have just asked." Greg said quietly.

John shot daggers from his eyes. John rustled through the sacks of goodies. Mycroft started reading.

"Dear Mycroft Holmes. You are either pretentious or are flattering us. I can only assume that my influence or Appledore is what represents Zhongdu."

John pulled out the 7-layer dark chocolate, coffee and raspberry torte.

"As Magnussen has some measure of respect for you and the power you hold I will refrain from a psychotic rant about your abilities. Suffice it to say a... ponce.."

John had opened the container and removed the torte. A fork dug into the corner and brought the first lush bite to John's lips. He washed it down with a swig of scotch.

"Mycroft, if I may interject, the proper response to that sentence is: I have killed people for less than that." John stated.

Mycroft nodded and continued.

"like you would not be allowed to carry Temujin's sword. As Baha-ad Din noted on his spy mission to China that they saw a snow covered mountain in the distance. You know what that was, don't you Mycroft? Since you seem to want to cast yourself in this story, I'll help. We have provided the fortified city. You can provide the million bodies that will make the massive pile of bones. We will let them decay and make the ground marshy and unstable. The stench will be like perfume.

I will build your overblown ego. Come and get us. No matter what happens I have drawn first blood. Oh do tell John that Mary is amazingly strong. Most women would have been inconsolable when.."

Mycroft rolls the paper up, tucks it in his jacket. Mycroft joins John at the torte. Mycroft takes a bite and lets it run through him. He starts to make another herb mix for Sherlock.

"Let me get that."

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson."

"Please, Mycroft continue." John says.

Mycroft clears his throat and continues reading.

"feeling the life inside her slowly slip away. She is beginning to bleed. Mary will keep bleeding. I would suggest that you put your brains together and figure out where they are. The storm is coming. I intend to enhance it. Figure it out.  
F&M "

Mycroft sat down and started forking nibbles from the torte. Sherlock took the mixture from Mrs. Hudson and slowly sipped it.

"We need to figure out that map." Sherlock said.

"I would appreciate that." John said.


	16. Like Mother Like Son

"Hey. This isn't supposed to be an outing. Hurry up!"

"Listen you idiot! My daughter is in here bleeding out because someone caused her to abort My Granddaughter!"

The guard opened the loo door and got a face full of rage and fury. Violet grabbed the man by his tie and yanked. The guard was caught off balance and couldn't get to his gun.

"You will give us as much time as I say. Do we understand? Or do I need to ask the people you are talking to through that earpiece?"

Magnussen was about to fly off the handle and tell the guard to injure Violet.

"Wait." Fantomas stated.

Magnussen turned from the video feed.

"What is the most dangerous entity anywhere in the known Universe?" Fantomas asked.

"What? Who cares?"

Fantomas did not like the sharp tongue on this one. Fantomas gripped Magnussen's shoulder and quietly asked again.

"What is the most dangerous entity anywhere in the known Universe?"

Magnussen didn't know what Fantomas wanted.

"By your hushed tone and iron grip on my shoulder I think the answer you want is, You."

Fantomas sighed and loosened his grip.

"Close. There is something much more dangerous than even I. Since you can't seem to guess, I'll tell you. A female protecting it's offspring."

"They aren't even related."

"You think you own Mycroft because of what?"

Magnussen decided not to correct him.

"A series of pressure points."

"You should already know people don't react to what actually is. They react to what they perceive. There is no need for violence, right now. Let the women stay in there and help Mary. The damage is done. It will also keep them all busy."

Violet was becoming impatient.

"Well?"

The guard slapped Violet's hand away and quietly slipped out the door.

"That's what I thought."

"Yeah, Mum!"

Charlene and Mary cheered together. Violet rolled her eyes and laughed. She walked back to the stall that Mary and Charlene were in.

"Have the cramps slowed any?"

"Yes, a bit. I'm afraid if I leave I'll bleed all over the place." Mary answered.

"Mary sit there till you feel like leaving." Violet said.

Mary pulled Charlene in for a hug around her waist. Charlene started to rub her back for lack of anything better to do.

"Mary we are here for you. We can't fix what has been done. We can help you through the aftermath. Just tell us what you need."

Violet stepped into the narrow space. Mary looked up at Violet and quickly buried her face in Charlene's stomach.

Don't cry. You will only get sicker. Mary thought.

Mary pulled Charlene closer and grabbed Violet's hand. All was silence for a few moments. Then Mary started to laugh. Violet and Charlene gave each other worrying glances. Mary lifted her head and looked at them both.

"No I haven't snapped. I was just thinking: what a way to bond."

They all dissolved into laughter. The guard just shook his head.

"Should I check on them sir."

"No. They are just blowing off some steam."

Fantomas nodded approvingly at Magnussen.

"Now you are learning."

Fantomas turned and started back for his laptop.

Magnussen looked puzzled.

"I need to send a quick note to Mycroft."

* * *

"John when did The Morstan's have the accident?" Sherlock asked.

The scotch had mellowed John out a bit. John didn't want to get drunk. He just needed to take the edge off. John needed to think.

"June 7,1982."

"Metz, Robson and Martinez were killed between March and May of that year."

"Could they have all been acquainted?" Mycroft asked.

Mycroft asked more to put Sherlock on a thinking track than to get an answer.

"Kirk shouldn't have had dealings with any of them."

"Are you sure John?" Sherlock asked.

John looked over Mary's file.

"She grew up in Denby Dale. That is near to Dewsbury. Still nothing to go on. Sherlock, shouldn't we be looking at the connection between Magnussen and the three local papers?"

Mrs. Hudson was just looking at the map quietly sipping her tea.

"I can do that John. Sherlock is right. We have seven deaths in four months. They are all tied together. We just can't see how." Mycroft offered.

"Let me pull up the four reports and see if there are any similarities."

"Yes. Thank you Greg." Sherlock said.

"Is it too early to ask why Mary was not in the car with the rest of her family?"

John watched as the three other men just stilled.

"No John. It never is." Sherlock answered.

John basked in the smile Sherlock was projecting at him. Sherlock had learned that John did not like getting overly praised. So the smile said all that Sherlock wanted to.

"How did Magnussen become her guardian anyway?" Greg asked.

"Long story but let me get the main points together." Mycroft answered.

John and Sherlock were both quiet. John closed his eyes to collect his thoughts.

"Same as the assassins. Sherlock." John said.

"John you are the world's greatest prism." Sherlock said.

John saw Greg's and Mycroft's confused looks. Mrs. Hudson smiled and stated:

"Conductor of light. It is something between the two of them. I'll explain later."

Mrs. Hudson went back to studying the map.

"They needed to keep me alive for a reason. It turned out to be a false reason but they didn't know that. Moriarty had told them I had information that everyone wanted. So they kept me from harm." Sherlock stated.

"What did Mary know or see that was so important that she needed to be kept alive?"

"We need to figure that out John." Mycroft stated.

"Mrs. H? Do you see something?" Greg asked.

"Are Dewsbury and Denby Dale in the same Borough?"

"Mrs. Hudson yes they are. Metropolitan Borough of Kirklees." Mycroft stated.

Sherlock stilled for a moment.

"Was Mary's father on the council?"

Mycroft started typing.

"Yes he was. Kirk Morsten, From 1980 to his death."

"There is your connection John." Sherlock stated.

"Sherlock you are giving me the face again."

"Ok, John. Kirk was a councillor."

"They don't have a lot of power."

"Doesn't matter John. He has access to a chain of government. The editors were investigating something. It turned out to be much bigger than any of them could handle. Samual Robson initiated the contact. He reached out for someone familiar. Someone he could trust. His local councillor. What were they working on? What did they find? Did you follow me?"

"Yes, Sherlock I did."

"Magnussen and The Morsten's entered into an agreement that he was going to be the guardian of their three children if anything happened to Kirk and Joyce." Mycroft stated.

"When was this agreement?" Greg asked.

"February 21, 1982. Before the editors started dying."

"What was going on? We need into the archives of all three papers." John stated.

Mycroft was deeply engrossed in his laptop.

"How do you tie to all this? Magnussen. What are you hiding? Don't make me regret protecting you all this time." Mycroft said to himself.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in." Greg said.

Anderson quickly entered.

"This just came off of the fax."

John grabbed for the fax and started reading.

"Also, Mrs. Hudson we have two officers watching over 221 Baker Street. Just in case anyone comes back."

"Thank you." Mrs. Hudson said.

"Good Job, Anderson. Keep me appraised."

"Yes, Sir."

Anderson nodded to all and exited the room. John's face slowly started splitting into a wide smile.

"I can not wait to meet your Mum. Your Father has all of my respect. Not that your Father can't handle himself."

John let out a short laugh. Sherlock and Mycroft were now riveted to John's every word.

"Mycroft you have been demoted."

John sat down and gave himself over to a deep laugh. Sherlock grabbed the fax and groaned. Mycroft was grabbing the paper out of his hands as he asked:

"What did Mummy do now?"

Mycroft groaned and handed the fax to Greg and Mrs. Hudson.

"Great. Both of them are cross now." Mycroft sighed.

"So much for checks and balances." Sherlock added.

The series of three pictures showed Violet staring down a fully armed guard. She was guarding the door of the bathroom. Violet was using the man's tie like a noose. By the third picture Violet was hovering over an obviously choking guard. Over her shoulder, one could see Charlene and Mary.

Mary was in pain but smiling. Charlene was protecting and supporting Mary. It was apparent that Charlene and Mary were cheering Violet on. The last photo clearly showed what Violet thought of the AK-47 being waved in her face.

"I want audio of your Mum telling the guard what to do with that rifle." John said through a laugh.

The next series of pictures showed Siger watching the women being led back into the room. Two guards guided the three blindfolded women. From what could be deduced, the guards attempted to goose Violet and Mary with the barrel of the guns. Siger threw a right cross at one and Charlene disarmed the other. There were a few missing moments in the photo stream. The last photo was the two guards being dragged by Siger towards the door. Siger now sported a split lower lip and a soon to be black eye.

"Your Father is going to have one heck of a shiner." Mrs. Hudson stated.

"He will proudly wear it." Sherlock stated.

"Why?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"He won the argument." The Holmes boys said in unison.

Greg let out a short chuckle and decided it was his turn to read the text.

"If you want to be a Khan, Mycroft, I shall anoint you one. You shall be Ögedei. Offspring of the great Temujin and Börte. As the attached photos show your parents are more than capable of handling themselves."

"Boy are they ever. This explains a lot about you two. Siger's face has the same look that Sherlock gets when you have reached your fill of BS." Greg stated.

Sherlock shrugged and the rest nodded agreement. Greg continued reading.

"They are also very clever. Your parents are not entertaining any thoughts of escape. I'm assuming you have figured that out. They are just going to protect the others. Live up to your birthright Ögedei. Figure this all out. You have twelve hours before the storm hits. St. Jude doesn't need help but I'm insistent. Water is a magnificent substance. Life,as we know it, is not possible without it. Yet water can so easily snuff out the very life it gave birth to. Twelve hours before the fun starts. F&M"

"What was the comment checks and balances referring to?" Greg asked.

"Inspector, you can't figure that out?" Mrs. Hudson stated.

Sherlock was smiling and Mycroft was trying not to.

"What? Sherlock you told me never to jump to conclusions."

"That I did. You are quite right not to do so. Mrs. Hudson please continue." Sherlock answered.

"These two would play one parent off of the other."

"I understand that much." Greg stated.

"If they are both cross."

"There was nowhere on Earth that you could hide." Mycroft finished.

Sherlock shivered at that.

"Sherlock? What happened?"Greg and John asked together.

"Just remembering a much deserved tanning that I received." Sherlock said.

Everyone's attention was drawn to Mycroft who was sputtering out shot him a death stare that just seemed to send Mycroft into further giggles.

"You never even smile Mycroft. If you are having a giggle fit we need to hear about this." Greg stated.

Mycroft gained control of himself enough to let out:

"Mt. Everest."

Sherlock turned five shades of red and said:

"I will tell them."

"Go right ahead."

"I had managed to simultaneously anger both of my parents. Which was a first for me."

"He had lost his temper in two classes at school that day."

"The teaching assistants were both idiots. I had kept quiet in both classes. I just decided to tell them that in front of the entire cafeteria when they were eating lunch."

"Sherlock, timing." John stated.

"Didn't care. I was right."

"So you have been this stubborn since the beginning?"

"Yes he has Mrs. Hudson. Fast forward five hours." Mycroft stated. "I was up in my room studying. Genius was downstairs explaining to Mummy and Father what happened."

"I made a thoroughly logical argument. They agreed I was correct. I couldn't understand why I was still in trouble. My parents stated if I ever did anything like this again there would be no cave deep enough to hide in to avoid punishment. Then they asked me if I understood."

"What did you do?" Greg asked.

Mycroft shook his head and swallowed a laugh.

"All I heard next was a shouted No and a quick explanation about Mt. Everest base camp number two. Then a few comments about our parents diminished lung capacity."

"You little prat." John said through a laugh.

"You can guess what came next." Sherlock quietly stated.

"Oh no. I'm telling them the best part."

Mycroft had the room's attention. Sherlock wanted to disappear into the woodwork.

"I hear him squeak and come flying upstairs. He runs into my room and yells: "Hide me. I'm going to meet an untimely death!" Then dives under my bed."

The whole room dissolves into laughter. Sherlock looks mildly offended.

"How old were you, Sherlock?"

"I was eight years of age Greg."

"Bless your parents. What happened next?" John asked.

Mycroft calmed himself and continued.

"Father walks into my room and just glares."

"You were supposed to protect me. Brother."

"Self preservation,brother. Anyway you were wrong. You were not going to die. You needed to learn a lesson. Grounding never worked with you."

"In all fairness, Mycroft is correct. I did not see that at the time."

"Father reached under the bed and dragged him out. Sherlock was screaming that I was in violation of some brotherly code. Father flung him over his shoulder and started downstairs. Of course, I followed."

"You were laughing at me! That was not helping."

"So was Father but you were carrying on to the point that you couldn't hear him."

"Wait. Father was laughing? I thought he was going to assist in my demise."

"Don't look so shocked Sherly. Yes. They were both were very cross with you. You embarrassed your teachers. Insulted your parents. But were.."

"Such a Drama Queen." John added.

John could see Mycroft was mulling the phrase over. Mycroft's face split into a gorgeous smile. Soon they both were fairly howling with laughter. Sherlock could not remember the last time Mycroft had gone to tears because of laughing. He looked amazing like this. This is the part of his brother that Sherlock had forgotten about. Yes, Mycroft was laughing at him but the love that Sherlock knew, and often denied, was there for him got to shine through the laughter. The look on Mrs. Hudson's face told Sherlock that she saw that also. Mycroft slowly came down from his funny high.

"Thank you John. I needed that."

"Anytime Mycroft."

"Father stood him up in front of Mummy. Sherlock what did Mummy say to you?"

"Any last words before your punishment? Young man."

Sherlock stilled for a moment.

"Mummy was not laughing. I remember that, Mycroft."

"No she was not. Actually she was mad at the two of us for daring to smile about what you said. This is your line, brother dear."

"I said that if Redbeard was not at the groomers he would be defending me."

Mycroft answered the questioning looks.

"Redbeard was Sherly's Irish Setter. Wonderful dog. Mummy bent Sherlock over her lap. Then he said said what would get me a tanning myself and Father a night in the guest room from laughing."

"You didn't get tanned. You were laughing to hard. I heard you all the way in the attic."

"Sherlock ask her yourself. I couldn't stop laughing. That is what made it worst. Now understand we held our tongues till you left. He stood back up and stated that Redbeard would avenge his death."

Mycroft let loose a laugh. Followed by the rest of the room. Mycroft took a few deep breaths and continued.

"Mummy looked so cross at you. You really got tanned. To Sherly's credit, he didn't make a sound. Mummy finished. Sherly just slowly climbed the stairs and disappeared from view. We then hear this horrible shriek and running feet. Sherly locked himself in the attic for the next five hours. That is when I burst out laughing. Mummy, what's the phrase, lit me up. It was worth it though."

"Lit up? Mycroft you couldn't take any more than five wacks."

"Not my fault."

"True. He was born with the red hair and sensitive skin. Mycroft did try to warn me before the next time. I wasn't a fast learner, in this case. Three more tannings before I got the point."

Sherlock started studying the pictures of everyone in the concrete room.

"Mummy said it was like trying to discipline a miniature version of herself."

Sherlock looked up from the pictures and beamed at that.

"Mummy, didn't mean it as a compliment."

"I'm taking it as one."

"Boys, what does he mean by enhancing St. Jude?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"I don't know." John asked.

"I'm not sure we want to know Mrs. H."

"How would you funnel a storm surge?" Mycroft asked.

They all looked at the map and tried to imagine the worst.


	17. Author's Note

Hello Gentle Reader,

I want to dedicate this story to my wonderful husband Kendall. I am about to lose him. My teacher, lover and best friend. Long story but all I and his best friend can do is ease him into death. We are keeping the pain away while his siblings say goodbye.

So needless to say, I will be posting sporadically for a while. This story will be finished, though.

Now I know why John looked so lost standing at Sherlock's grave. I'm about to lose my Sherlock forever. Please always tell those you love how much you care. You just never know.


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